


Perfect Weekend

by maven



Series: Policy and Procedure [5]
Category: Birds of Prey (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maven/pseuds/maven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting away from everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Alternative Universe as it’s a blend of the Birds of Prey television show and a variety of DC comic books, particularity The Killing Joke and the Batman titles between 1983 and 1991.

"What is this?"

"This may be a very bad idea. Possibly the worst idea I ever had." 

"What is it?" 

"It's a motorcycle. Actually, honest, it's a really bad idea and we can go now. I'll take you to a movie or something. The opera. I'll take you to the opera again." 

"Helena." 

"Please, can we go?" 

"Explain and, when I've heard everything, we can decide." 

Helena Kyle glared up at the rows and rows of empty windows staring back. The fine gravel crunched beneath the wheels of Barbara's chair, one of the manual chairs instead of her usual electric one or the thought-chair. Birds were singing and the early morning sun shone down. 

Helena was not a morning person, barely a day person and definitely not a stately Wayne Manor person. 

"Fine. It's a candy black-cherry, 2004 Honda Goldwing ABS with a electronic sequential gear changer and retractable landing gear in the left saddlebag," she muttered wishing that there had been somewhere else she could have had the thing delivered to. 

"You mean I can ride it?" 

"Yes, if by that you mean you can drive it. It's all explained here," Helena said, pulling a tattered manual out of her jeans pocket. "I could understand most of it until they started talking about gear ratio and stuff. I figured you could get it down pat. I mean compared to those Delphi manuals this one's a snap." 

Barbara pulled back from her inspection of the handlebars and looked back at her companion. Who, in turn, was looking at the house, her boots, the trees and anywhere but the motorcycle and wheelchair. 

Silently Barbara moved the chair to Helena, reached up and tugged on the open jacket until Helena was in a kneeling crouch in front of her. Normally she hated that, having someone stoop down and remind her of the permanent change in perspective. Helena had been the sole exception. 

She waited patiently until Helena finally brought her attention to her. 

"Please," Helena whispered. "I'll take you to the opera every night for a week. Or the symphony. Even ballet. Yeah. A month of ballet. Just please forget I did this, okay? It was really…" 

"Thoughtful. Thank you," Barbara said, placing one hand over Helena's mouth and snagging the instruction manual with the other. 

Stunned Helena fell back until she was sitting on the drive, her lack of usual grace unobserved as Barbara leafed through the manual. She watched as Barbara moved the chair around, leaning forward and back to try out the controls, giving them a dry run. The bike was on the kickstand, allowing the gear to rise and fall. 

"It must drive like a pig when the training wheel is down," she muttered. 

"The guy said no faster than 5 klicks. I tried it going faster and nearly fell down," Helena confirmed. 

"You rode it?" 

"Well, I wasn't going to let you near it unless it was safe. It's been fully checked out by experts. And me." 

"But… how… where?" 

"Jim got me in touch with the police instructor and I got my license. When this was delivered I took it down to the pursuit track and he and I put it through some paces. He says it's different but a good driver can pick it up quickly." 

Barbara stared at her. "How long has this been in the works, Hel?" 

"Well," Helena said, suddenly renewing her interest in the toe of her boots. "Including the research for about five years." 

"I see. Anything else I should know about?" 

"Ummm, it's hooked into the Delphi system comms and tracking with one of the portable units. The Kid knows we're out and will come get us if we run into difficulty. I rented a pickup truck with a bike ramp for her to use. There's a picnic lunch in the Hummer and a state park about an hour from here." 

"And I can ride this thing?" 

"Yes" Helena said, ticking off points on her fingers. "You can drive or ride or we can go in the Hummer. I can drive or ride or chase you in the Hummer. I think that's all the combinations." 

"You got your license?" 

"Yeah. On one of the Gotham PD bikes." 

"They let you play with the siren?" 

"Jeez, Barbara," Helena complained. "Yeah," she allowed as Barbara simply stared, head cocked to one side. "The lights too." 

"How about we both ride cycles?" 

"Sure. You want to go first?" 

Barbara smiled, pulling a large ring of keys from a pocket in the chair. "This one opens the garage. This one starts the black one, three from the door in the middle aisle. A Guzzi." 

Helena's jaw worked, glancing stubbornly from the key to the garage. 

"It's mine. Not Bruce's." 

Stiffly Helena nodded once before taking the keys. Drawing a deep breath she entered the garage. 

She'd been in before, of course. Alfred had conned her into going once and ended up giving her the nickel tour and then the superhero tour just in case she needed access to the equipment when he or Barbara were unavailable. She had nodded, gritted her teeth and mocked the toys and ran all the way back to Gotham. 

The garage was as she remembered. Three long rows of automobiles, motorcycles and even one or two horse drawn carriages. The soft smell of motor oil, leather and sawdust. She quickly located the bike Barbara had specified parked beside a bright yellow Ducati. Helena frowned and kicked the Ducati's tire hard enough to make the bike shudder before wheeling Guzzi out of the garage. 

"It's so small," she said when she was in daylight again, tracing the soaring falcon emblem on the tank with one finger. "You sure I can keep up?" 

Barbara looked at the bike fondly. "Trust me, Helena, you won't be the one chasing me." 

"That'll make a nice switch." 

"I'll ignore that because you're putting the picnic stuff on the Honda." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Picnic basket, as well as helmets, were quickly retrieved. 

"Logistically speaking there's one problem with this, Red." 

"I can make do without a chair for this." 

As efficiently as possible Helena helped Barbara onto the seat, making sure her feet were secure and the landing gear down before rocking it off the kickstand. 

"You sure about this?" Helena asked over the rumble of the two engines. 

"Catch me if you can." 

Sighing Helena watched as Barbara started up, not daring to move until she saw the wheel pull up as Barbara made a leisurely lap around the circular drive. "Awesome," she muttered as she released the clutch on her own bike while easing forward the throttle. 

The bike shot forward with a spray of gravel, pulling slightly to the right. Over compensating Helena soon found herself with the Guzzi nearly on its side before she righted the bike and grinned at Barbara. 

"You rode this?" Helena asked with equal awe and delight. 

"Too much for you, Hel?" Barbara asked, her voice coming over the earring comms crystal clear. 

Her answer was the sudden gunning of the motor and another rooster tail of gravel. Smiling Barbara watched Helena roar down the long drive before following at a more sedate speed. Helena reached the end of the drive and roared back. 

"You okay?" Helena asked. 

"Keep up if you can, Hel," and with that they were off. 

+++++ 

"My God, it's like riding a vibrator. Why didn't you let me use this when I started sweeps?" 

Blushing at the image Barbara shook her head to clear both the thought and the helmet head hair. "I don't think either one of us would have survived you being more… stimulated at that age." 

"You're blushing," Helena said with delight as she approached. Her eyes were feral and looking at them, Barbara decided, made it very hard to breath. 

"Just a little. I want off this thing now." 

"You want me to set up the blanket first or do you want to sit at the table?" 

"Blanket." 

"Right. Two minutes." 

In considerably less time Barbara found herself on a large picnic blanket while Helena unpacked the thermal cooler. 

"Cold apple cider, hot chocolate, bizarre sandwiches with shredded green river grass -" 

"Watercress." 

"-yeah, right, more bizarro sandwiches made with no crusts and vegetables. Didn't the man pack any meat? Ah. Salmon. Close." 

"That's what you get for getting someone to pack your picnic. Especially an Englishman." 

"I guess," Helena said, suspiciously sniffing a watercress sandwich. 

"This seems slightly incongruous. I mean, you in the country." 

"Must be the second time I've been out of a city," Helena said, taking a small bite. "Mom took me to a farm once to see animals and growing things. Crops I think they're called." 

"Did you like it?" 

"Well, it took them two hours to get me out of the rafters of the barn and Mom had to drive back to return the baby chicks I, er, liberated. It was very open. Flat. Empty. I wasn't comfortable and neither was Mom." 

"So why bring me here?" 

Helena held the sandwich in her mouth while she removed her jacket, folding it into a pillow and lying down. 

"I think I'm proving something to you about me. And maybe to me about me, too." 

"What's that?" 

"I know that I love you in the city and when you're being a teacher. And in the clock tower and when you're being Oracle and when you're in the chair," she said slowly. "And I guess you feel the same. So I thought by taking those away, just temporarily, you'd see that it was, I dunno, not those things. Does that make any sense?" 

Barbara shook her head, "Not exactly. But I think I see what you mean." 

"Good. That was 'best friend and mentor and partners' love you, okay? Not 'my heart only beats for you' love you. Okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Except it does," Helena said when her sandwich was finished. 

"What?" 

"Beats only for you." 

+++++ 

"I say this out of concern, Helena, and not crass curiosity," Barbara said. When the picnic was done and they were just enjoying the sun. "The bike must have cost a lot." 

"Yeah, way more than I make at the Dark Horse." 

"Oh, so how did I swing it?" 

"Guess I take after my folks. You remember that armoured car heist three weeks ago? Ow!" 

"Hard head," Barbara muttered, shaking her fingers out. 

"Fine," Helena said, rubbing the top of her head. "Other parent actually. It's a long story." 

"Nothing I like better on a sunny day than a good story." 

"Right," Helena said, pulling off the shirt and adding it to the jacket pillow. "When I turned nineteen Alfred shows up with this fancy envelope. Tells me that since your guardianship had officially ended and that I was an adult, I got the interest cheques from the trust fund." 

"Trust fund?" 

"Exactly what I said, yeah. He told me about Wayne setting up this trust fund for me. So I, of course, tore the thing into little shreds." She cocked her head and nodded thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure stomping on the pieces was involved." 

"I'm impressed with the maturity of your reaction." 

"Why thank you. So was Alfred. He told me that he had anticipated my reaction and had removed the cheque before giving me the envelope. And then he chewed my ass off." 

"Alfred?" 

"You know. All British and disapproving and making you feel like a total idiot. That I might be an adult by law but he had his doubts. He said that even if I didn't want it, the thing was mine. That it represented both power and responsibility. And I should hang on to it and think about it and what I wanted to do about it. Three months later he asks if I'd decided and I told him to give it to the place I wrote on the back. And he hands me another one. We've been doing it ever since, four times a year." 

"And you've just given it away?" 

"Hell, yeah." 

"Where?" 

"To be honest, Chris Reeves' foundation got most of it. Gotham's Children's Hospital gets one a year. The high school's 'Step-Up Scholarship' was started with one of them." 

"My God, Helena. That's--" 

"Just money," Helena said as she watched the math flashing behind Barbara's eyes. As a member of the school facility she knew the amount of the annuity used to provide the scholarship given to students in single or no parent families. "Besides, I kinda got a kick out of the silent benefactor thing." 

"Dinah's applied for that scholarship, you know." 

"Dinah won't get it," Helena said, her slight smile broadening, "but she's covered for her first four years already. I call it the 'you're a righteous pain in the ass but I still kind of like you' scholarship. Anyway. The last cheque Alfred handed to me I used to get the bike outfitted with enough left over for upkeep and updates. I know how you love your updates." 

"You should have used it for you," Barbara protested. 

"You're being stupid again. I got to see your face when we pulled up here. When you realized you could ride that thing all by yourself. That was all mine and worth more than all the cheques combined." 

Barbara shook her head. "Purely selfish reasons?" 

"Oh yeah," Helena said, stretching across the blanket as if to catch every ray of sunshine possible. She might not be a day person but she was definitely a catnap while basking in the sun person. "This is nice. Mom always had a balcony with padded lounges and we’d just lie there in the sun." 

“I’d not have pegged you as a sun worshipper.” 

“Not exactly. It’s the warmth. We were both night owls and dozed a lot in the afternoon.” 

“That would explain your near catatonic state in tenth grade English.” 

“I was listening. Just with my eyes closed.” 

“And the snoring and drooling?” 

Helena sat up abruptly. “No way!” 

Barbara laughed and stretched out, staring up at the light scattering of clouds. Cumulus, she categorized. That one looked like a bunny. 

Helena rolled to her side, head propped on one hand to watch the play of emotion. “You’re having a good time?” 

“I am. Thank you seems inadequate.” 

“It doesn’t have to end, you know.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Trust me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Can I kidnap you?” 

“Yes.” 

Helena reached across, snagging Barbara’s cell phone and pressing the quick dial by touch. “Yeah, Kid, it’s a go. Plan three,” there was a pause as Helena listened. “Better, actually. Thanks.” 

“What was that all about?” 

“Secret. All will be revealed in the fullness of time,” Helena said, putting the phone on her own belt. “Just trust me that everything is in control.” 

“Plan three? You had three plans?" 

"Five, actually." 

"I thought planning wasn’t your forte?” 

“I’ve found inspiration.” 

+++++ 

Barbara pulled the Honda up into a graveled parking space beside the Hummer and looked around curiously. The house was a large, rambling farmhouse with gingerbread woodwork and an actual widow’s walk on the roof. Orchard, barn and large garden completed the picture of a well to do hobby farm. All of which matched the ‘Hobby-Horse Inn” sign at the bottom of the drive. Helena’s arrival a few seconds later, loud and sudden, was at total odds with the setting. 

“Can I keep it, please please please? I'll ride it and change the oil and it won't be any trouble,” she said, jumping from the bike and bouncing over the few steps to stand by Barbara’s side. 

“It's not a puppy, Helena.” 

“Plllllllleeeeeaaaaaasssssse,” she whined, hands clasped in front of her. "You never did let me have a puppy." 

"You weren't this hot and bothered over the bike the Animals gave you." 

"That was different. It was all cowling and electronics and new. Plus, yellow which always reminds me of WonderDick. This is just an engine and wheels and skill. Please?" 

“Fine. But you can't take it on sweeps and no riding without the helmet. And don't even think about letting Dinah on it.” 

Helena gave two short bounces of excitement before giving Barbara a quick hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. This toy thing is addictive.” 

“You want a batarang?” 

“No, no” Helena said, holding her hands up in protest before her eyes grew wide. “You have one of those jet-propelled hang gliders in the attic?” 

“Oh, yeah, right next to the Bat-Space-Shuttle.” 

“Really?” 

“You’ve been watching way to much Saturday morning cartoons, Helena Kyle.” 

Helena just smiled. “Wait here, I’ll get the chair and bags.” 

Barbara watched as Helena removed her chair and a couple of overnight bags from the back of the Hummer, the usually easy procedure made slightly more complicated by the motorcycle trailer. “So, what is this place?” 

“Kinda a bed and breakfast," Helena said as she helped Barbara transfer back to the chair. "They have a really small restaurant and a couple of rooms.” 

“And they can handle,” she rapped the left wheel of her chair, “this?” 

“Oh yeah. It’s a very friendly place. Wheelchair friendly. Pet friendly. Support animal friendly. Gay friendly. Kid friendly. Wireless Internet Addict friendly. Vegetarian friendly but nothing’s perfect. Why don't you get a support dog to fetch you stuff?" 

"Silly. I had you for that and now Dinah," Barbara said seriously before grinning. "So what’s the plan, General McArthur?” 

“Dinner, sleep, breakfast. And then it's up to you. We can ride the bikes some more or pack them on the trailer and head back to the city.” 

“And you packed for me?” 

“Dinah helped. Just the necessities; laptop, cellphone, PDA, second PDA, backup cellphone, mobile fax and the chargers and synch cables for all of the above. I think I may have stuck some clothes and a toothbrush in there.” 

“Dinah knows about this, us?” Barbara asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Grabbed the idea of this weekend from me when we were sparring last week. Remember, you asked if I’d given her a wedgie?” 

Barbara nodded, remembering the high-pitched squeal and the reluctance of either one of them to explain it. 

“Anyone else?” 

“Well, Alfred. ‘Cause I needed him to help me make some of the arrangements and take delivery of the bike,” Helena said, walking beside the chair as they headed for the unobtrusive ramp. “Your Dad.” 

The chair stopped abruptly. “Was I the last one?” 

“Don’t be silly,” Helena said. “Gotham has a population of over 5 million,” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Counting only the people I give a flying fuck about? Yes, you were the last.” 

“Why?” 

“Let’s see. I had to warn Dinah because, if you shot me down in flames, I figured I wouldn’t be in a mood to explain to her why things were suddenly hinky or tense between us. I had to ask your dad’s permission to date you and Alfred because I needed a hint that you’d be open to the idea.” 

“Idea? Of you?” 

Helena nodded and dropped the bags to use them as an impromptu seat bringing their faces level. “Not that I’ve had a lot of evidence but you seemed pretty straight.” 

“And Alfred gave you a hint?” 

“Not exactly. He said he’d never seen me scared of anything and it was pity to start now. And that precious little you’d done in your life conformed to society’s rules. Then he made flapping motions with his arms and said 'bwak bwak'. It was very disturbing.” 

"I can imagine." 

"After the trauma had eased it left only you to tell. Ask. Beg." 

Barbara reached forward, ruffling Helena's hair a bit before tracing a line behind her ear and down her jaw, causing Helena’s eyes to glint golden before she closed them. 

"Mmmm," Helena said as the light touch disappeared. "You know, it's going to be nice to actually keep my eyes open during sex." 

"What?" Barbara said, feeling her cheeks heat yet again. 

"I said- 

"Don't repeat it," Barbara begged, "just explain it." 

Helena nodded, closed her eyes again and took several breaths before looking up, gold eyes fixed on Barbara. "Most people find this a bit of a mood killer." 

"Strange," Barbara said, voice almost a croak as her mouth went suddenly dry. "I have the exact opposite reaction. Guess I'm not most people." 

"No," Helena said, bending closer, "you're unique." 

"For someone who claims their seduction technique is based on a wink and a nod-" 

"But I don't want to seduce you," Helena said, bowing her head, so close that her hair brushed Barbara's lips. She looked back up, eyes blue. "I want more." 

"You're very confident about this." 

"I'm not. Not really. You wanna see the rooms?" 

"Do they have showers?" 

"Baby, they have everything." 

+++++ 

They had showers with lots of railings so that there was no excuse to ask for Helena's help. And there had been a lovely supper with wine and dessert and a porch swing after. Finally there had been a light kiss on the cheek when they had reached their respective rooms. 

Barbara's room had a low bed, much like the one at home, with a myriad of support bars that allowed her to transfer and get comfortable. Helena's room, which Barbara had seen from the open communicating door, had looked equally comfortable but without the handicap features. Sighing happily she wriggled a bit lower into the pillows, content to hold her book and just relax. She glanced at the communicating door where Helena was now standing. 

"I was just going to say goodnight," Barbara said. 

"Yeah. Me too. Except I'm tired but awake." 

"I know the feeling. Want to talk a bit?" 

Helena pointed to the book. Barbara shrugged, smiled and put the book on the night table. It had been awhile since one of them had sought out the other to talk until their minds became as tired as their bodies. And, as she had every other time she had sought out Barbara, Helena crawled onto the foot of the bed to coil around Barbara's feet. 

"You comfortable?" Barbara asked. Helena merely nodded. "Anything in particular you want to talk about?" 

“Tell me about the first time.” 

“Which one?” 

“You put on the suit and kicked someone’s ass.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Nope. I mean, I was just a kid. I think you'd been Batgirl at least a year before I moved to Gotham.” 

“It was the Annual New Gotham Police Department Charity Masquerade Ball. I made this female version of Batman’s costume, jumped on the Guzzi and went to surprise my dad.” 

“Unhuh,” Helena said, fingers making idle patters on Barbara’s ankle, kneading through the blankets and sheets. 

“And I pass this carjacking, a limo with some rich guy in it. So being dressed as a superhero and very proud of my brown belt in karate I just jumped into it.” 

“Jesus, Barbara,” Helena said, hand pausing and gripping tightly. “And you call me reckless?” 

“Damn straight, I do. But it looked like they were going to kill him so in I jump. And just when I was figuring out that I was in way over my head Batman showed up. And then it was all over.” 

“And the rich guy was okay?” 

“Bruce Wayne? He took off during the fight to call Batman, apparently.” 

“You’re fucking me,” Helena said in shock. 

“Nope. Ironic, isn't it?” 

Helena twisted until she was lying on her back, staring unseen at the ceiling. 

“You should have driven on," she said after several moments. "You should have just let them kill him.” 

“Hel?” 

“I use to pretend, after that night, that I’d travel back in time and change things. Save you, save my mom. That's something easy I could do. I could go to your house and wreck your bike or, or anything. Pretty stupid dream, right? But if I could, I would.” 

“Why, Helena?” 

“No Bruce Wayne, no Batman, no Joker.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yeah, I do. No Joker, no Harley Quinn, no Guy, no Wade being killed. There’d be a lot less pain in both our lives if you’d skipped that party, Barbara. A lot less wasted time.” 

Several minutes passed and Barbara simply ran her fingers through Helena's hair, feeling the tension slowly ease. 

“What did you waste time on, sweetheart?” she asked quietly. 

“Waiting to grow up. Waiting for you to see I was grown up.” 

“Sorry I didn’t notice sooner.” 

“S’kay,” Helena said, voice sleepy. 

“You should head back to your bed,” Barbara said after several minutes of just enjoying the quiet and the company. 

“Don’t wanna,” came the sleepy answer. 

“Then come up here and at least be comfortable.” 

“Don’t wanna.” 

“Why not?” Barbara asked. 

“Can’t screw up.” 

+++++ 

“Tell me about the first time,” Barbara said as she poured another glass of orange juice. 

“Which one? With a boy? With a girl? With a boy and a girl? With two-” 

“Played the hero," Barbara interrupted desperately. 

"I don't remember but my Mom said it was when I was in play school. I was three. Strange…" 

"What?" 

"I seem to be mentioning Mom a lot." 

"Yes, I noticed. You alright with that?" 

Helena nodded and moved the plate of toast closer to Barbara. "Right, well, this obnoxious twerp kept bugging me. I'd build a block tower; he'd smash it down. So I'd go to another toy and he'd follow and wreck it. And he does this five times and finally gets bored with me and goes to find a new victim. Smashes the block tower that some other kid had made." 

"And?" 

"And apparently I picked him up and shoved him face first into the sand table." 

"Did you get into trouble?" 

"Not much. I mean, the kid was three inches and twenty pounds heavier than me and babbling something about me having cat eyes. Obviously a troubled child who'd managed to climb onto the sand table. I just looked innocent and Mom started packing when I got home." 

"She did?" Barbara said. Helena's mood had turned about 180 degrees, from cheerful to pensive. 

"Yeah. She couldn't afford any weird rumours about her or me. Must have moved a dozen times before here." 

"Where?" 

"Paris, Milan, London, Quebec City. Paris was the longest. Then I got it under control. Learned to shut down rather than react. Walk away," Helena said. She looked at Barbara. "Mom made me understand that I could really hurt someone and that would hurt her. When she… when she was gone it didn't matter. In some ways it still doesn't." 

"I didn't know. I just assumed the trauma triggered it." 

"Fooled ya good, hey Babs?" 

"You did." 

"Did you see the cute piglets they have at the barn? All pink and wrinkly?" 

"Ah, no," Barbara said, looking involuntarily toward the barn. 

"You gonna finish that bacon?" 

"Help yourself." 

++++ 

They'd decided to forgo more motorcycling in lieu of simply enjoying the quiet of the farm. They'd explored the large loft and Helena had re-discovered an allergy to hay when she'd swan dived into a loose pile from the rafters. 

Barbara sat in the shade watching as Helena packed the Hummer, watching her move with assurance and ease. So unlike the almost coltish child that had literally sprawled at her feet the first time they'd met. So at odds with her graceful mother who had come over to rescue the young gymnast from her over active child. 

"Whatchya thinking of?" 

"First time I met you and Selena." 

Helena smiled. "At the club. You didn't know who she was." 

"No. Not until she introduced herself. I never knew her as Catwoman and the records were all about a decade old, not recent enough to recognize her in civilian clothing. Let alone with a child." 

"She hadn't been Catwoman for a few years by then." 

"I could never understand how she retired. I mean, Bruce knew something was up with the huge increase in activity but he thought she was financing a really huge heist, not retirement." 

"No, just me." 

"It would have driven me insane. To give that up." 

Helena peered over her sunglasses. "Who said she gave it up?" 

"What?" 

"Well, Catwoman retired, sure. But you know how it is. Every so often she just had to relive the thrill. Penny ante stuff in her books but she liked to test herself." 

"You're sure? Because he, we actually, ran comparisons on MOs--" 

"Barbara," Helena chided. "When a Rembrandt shows up on your apartment wall I think that's considered solid evidence. She never kept the stuff for longer than a few days and she always gave it back directly, no ransom or insurance deals. The challenge was planning a job with no chance of being caught and not setting up any 'Catwoman did this" flags." 

"She did it well." 

"Fooled you. And him, I take it?" 

"So far as I know." 

"You know what I never could figure out? About him?" 

"What?" 

"How people who I really admire: you, your dad, my mom, Alfred. You all think he's some, I dunno, some paragon of something." 

"You didn't really know him." 

"No. And just let me say any slack I cut him is for you and Alfred." 

"Fair enough. Trust is given but I can see how, to you, he betrayed that trust." Barbara looked around. "Time to head back, isn't it?" 

"Yeah. Bikes are loaded." 

"We can come back," Barbara said, almost as a question. 

"I'd hate to mess with the memory of perfection, but yes. We can." 

+++++ 

"What you said yesterday. About how you held yourself in check because of your mother," Barbara said later that night on the balcony of the Clock Tower. Helena sat on the balustrade, arms curled around her knees. "What did you mean it didn't matter anymore?" 

"It doesn't," Helena said as if stating the obvious. 

"Pretend this is another one of my blind areas for which I'm totally stupid." 

"Okay. If I went all Huntress on some kid in school we'd have to move in the best case and in the worst case people might start poking around my history which would lead to poking around mom's history which, frankly, wouldn't bear much poking." 

"But you control yourself now." 

"Not really," Helena said, turning her back to the city and her attention to Barbara. "By using it more I can do what needs to be done and win and get away," Helena said and then laughed suddenly. "Barbara, you wind me up and point me at the bad guys and say 'go get 'em'. And then whisper on my ear to calm down and not hurt anyone. Mixed messages?" 

"I never looked at it that way." 

Helena leaned forward, jabbing the arm rests control on the chair and bringing it forward. 

"It's better now than it was at the beginning. Now you trust me to know what needs to be done, how much, when, no more mixed signals." 

"We're still talking about bad guy?" 

"Hell, no," Helena said, eyes slipping into red and then gold, fingertips moving over the controls and bringing the chair between her knees. "Trust me?" 

"With?" 

"What needs to be done, when, and how much. Which is this," Helena said, leaning forward to brush her lips against Barbara's lightly, "right now for about," returning to the kiss for a few seconds, "about that long." 

"You going to do that again?" 

"Not right away. I don't want to overpower--" 

"Me?" Barbara asked when Helena trailed off. 

"No, me." 

"Dare you to." 

"Barbara." 

"Double dog dare you." 

"You are so childish," Helena said, pushing the wheelchair and temptation back a few inches. "You're turning into Dinah." 

Barbara shrugged and smiled. "I would not be adverse to having that happen again. But I’m willing to take things as slow as you and I need to." 

"Thank you," Helena smiled. "And for coming with me this weekend." 

"You're very welcome. You're leaving now?" 

"Yeah," Helena said, standing up and stretching. Looking exactly like a diver about to do a back flip into the pool. "Just going to take the short cut down to the garage." 

"Okay," Barbara said doubtfully. 

"Don't worry. I feel so good I'll either fly or bounce if I screw it up." 

"Just don't screw up." 

"I won't. It was a good weekend?" 

"It was perfect." 

"Like you," she says and leaps. 

END


End file.
